


NameDay (or how Sylvanas and Jaina adopt a baby bat)

by JE_Talveran



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Set in Chapter 14 before everything goes to hell, This started with the word 'key', and turned into an adoption story of best boi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 12:20:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17766674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JE_Talveran/pseuds/JE_Talveran
Summary: Jaina might have the threat of a dangerous politically charged dinner over her head, and she still needs to figure out how to break into a secret archive, but none of that matters when Sylvanas doesn't understand the proper way to go about naming a new friend.Set in Chapter 14 of Timeless before everything goes to hell.





	NameDay (or how Sylvanas and Jaina adopt a baby bat)

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd due to the insanity that is work and life right now, but I hope you enjoy!

Once inside the Keep, Tandred immediately pulled Calia into one of the ground floor libraries, half-stumbled through an explanation of his ambitious project in the north of Stormsong that would showcase the diplomatic connections between the Isles and the shoreline communities in southern Gilneas. 

Katherine peeled away a minute later as a courtier wearing the soft amber and red of the Waycrests approached her with a book tucked underneath one arm. It didn’t take more than a concerned look for Katherine to gently touch Jaina’s elbow before she bade the courier to follow her down another one of the long hallways.

Which left Jaina and Vereesa. Normally, Vereesa’s company would have been a delight for Jaina, and she’d have taken the small break between the dangerous political warfronts to steal some much-needed reprieve with her friend. However, at the back of Jaina’s mind, she couldn’t help but remember the rather unwelcome guest she’d allowed to wander unguarded through the upper halls and the thought that she needed to go check up on her.

For some reason, she was not as concerned as perhaps she should have been considering Sylvanas’ predicament, and the history between the ex-Warchief and the Isles. Instead, Jaina felt the undeniable tug of curiosity, like Sylvanas was more akin to a newly-obtained cat who had suddenly gone very quiet. 

Next to her, Vereesa rocked lightly back and forth on the balls of her feet, idly moving even as they stood still in the middle of the grand foyer. The sweeping stairs that led up into the upper floors framed the quel’dorei ranger as she turned to face Jaina, her expression as serious as the mage had ever seen her friend.

“A rather impressive guard for a personal visit,” Vereesa mused, easily alighting to a slower, common Thalassian that Jaina could follow.

“Half of them are fresh off a trek in the woods as well,” Jaina pointed out.

“Yes, about that,” Vereesa stilled for a second. “What was that earlier about an ettin?”

Jaina grinned, “A long story I will be happy to share after dinner.”

Vereesa’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “I’ll hold you to that, Proudmoore. When this is all said and done and my sister’s ass is kicked back through a one-way portal,” she jabbed a finger against Jaina’s left shoulder. “You and I are sitting down and having a long, _long_ talk.”

Jaina nodded, and a sense of warmth settled in her as she realized that even with the three years of distance between them, Vereesa seemed to harbor little, if any, resentment. It was … nice, Jaina supposed, to have someone care about what you’ve been up to. And as Vereesa turned to wander the inside route toward the barracks, Jaina realized that she’d sorely missed her friend.

“Will the talk have alcohol?” She called out, and Vereesa turned to fix her with an affronted look.

“How can you even ask that?” Vereesa took a few steps backwards, hand clutched over her heart. “It’s like you don’t even know me!” She spun back around with an exaggerated motion, and left Jaina laughing in her wake. 

When Jaina was finally alone, she couldn’t get past the thought that the strange ordeal she found herself caught up in would soon draw to a close. Vereesa was right, after the raid on the archives, there would be little left to keep up the pretense of working with Sylvanas.

Jaina balked on the stairway. Pretense? Where had that thought bubbled up from? She was looking forward to the moment she could rid herself of all the forsaken drama. Right?

She hesitated on another step, her hand tightly clutched over the rail. She was ready to return to her Lord Admiral duties, wasn’t she?

Jaina shook her head. The mystery surrounding the ancient city would have to be one she discovered through second-hand accounts. She knew that once Vereesa settled her own affairs, the young ranger would eventually find her archeological path back to the strange history of Falor’Thalas and with the Tidesage scrolls, she’d have the bulwark against whatever lingering darkness lurked there.

There would be time later to convince herself that she genuinely looked forward to reading what Vereesa discovered. 

***

Jaina found Sylvanas away from the tower, down in the dark and dank underbelly of the keep where the cold waters of the bay lapped at the ancient rock that supported the bastion. 

She followed the cold, commanding summons that she associated with Sylvanas’ necromantic powers down old, rickey staircases that looked like they’d last seen repairs before Jaina had been a sparkle in her father’s eye. In the natural caverns, Jaina spied evidence of smuggling, the ever-present complication that a trade-town had to deal with, and if she wasn’t currently on the hunt for a devious banshee, she’d have done more than left a small tracking sigil on the edge of one barrel. She didn’t recognize the emblem burned into the wood, but that wasn’t important at the moment.

What was important was Sylvanas hunched down, her hands cupped carefully around something small and struggling. The cold command still hung in the air, still crackled and shimmered around Jaina’s awareness like frost threatening to break through, but Jaina couldn’t see what (or who) Sylvanas was bringing back.

“Careful,” Sylvanas’ voice was slow and gentle, and nearly lost underneath the ethereal echo of the banshee. “If you break it, then you’ll never be able to fly.”

“Sylvanas?” Jaina asked, stopping a foot or so away.

Sylvanas stood up, her hands still secured around whatever was squirming within the shelter of her gloves, and turned to face Jaina. “Proudmoore, all finished playing Host?”

Jaina wrinkled her nose, “No. There’s still the uncomfortable family dinner.”

“Oh?” Sylvanas glanced up from her prize to meet Jaina’s gaze. “With Calia?”

“Apparently she’s the mainlander Tandred’s taken with.”

Sylvanas made a small noise, and her lips quirked faintly into the briefest of smiles before it disappeared. Jaina still caught the expression though.

“What?”

“You could take Vereesa then, scandalize your brother.”

Jaina snorted, “Or take you.”

“Me?” Sylvanas laughed. “Hardly. I’m terrible at small talk, I’d probably start the entre off with a murder attempt, and by dessert you’d be in irons.”

“But it would be so much more interesting than listening to … whatever.” Jaina set her hip against one of the oddly-marked barrels and canted her chin to Sylvanas’ hands. “What do you have there?”

Sylvanas blinked, and her ears swiveled up. She glanced down at her hands as if she’d forgotten she’d been holding something. She approached Jaina and gently unfurled her palms until Jaina was staring down at the smallest giant bat she’d ever seen.

“A traveler quite a bit away from his home,” Sylvanas answered her. 

“You raised him?”

“It’s not this one’s fault that his final resting place stinks of seaweed and salt.” Sylvanas carefully ran her thumb over the tiny ridges of a crooked wing. “I found him in a box with freshly caught moths. Someone’s been hiding him here, feeding him too.”

“Aren’t giant bats fruit-eaters?” Jaina leaned over to get a better look at the creature. With wings furled, the little bat fit snugly into Sylvanas’ hands, and stared sluggishly up at her, eyes a little glazed from the resurrection.

“They are,” Sylvanas confirmed. She brought out a small square of cloth from her pouch and began to wrap the bat in a swaddle. “Galen will enjoy the company.” When she set the bat back into her pouch, all Jaina could make out was the fuzzy little head poking out curiously over the leather and taking in his surroundings. Though, he wasn’t struggling any more. 

“He is cute,” Jaina admitted, leaning back to allow Sylvanas space to leave the cramped corner she’d found her in. “What are you going to name him?”

Sylvanas sent a look down to the calm bat surveying the cavern from the safety of her hip. “I’m not sure? Does he need a name?”

“Does he - of course he does!” Jaina pushed off the barrel as Sylvanas stepped past her. They went back along the waterlogged dock, and toward the drier, if darker starwell that would lead them back into the fortress. “You can’t just call him ‘Bat’.”

“I don’t know, it seems tiring to think of a decent name.”

“Sylvanas, you are not calling the baby bat ‘bat’.” Jaina didn’t know why she felt so insistent on the matter, but she knew that she could easily amp up into a very long and researched argument if Sylvanas wanted to play the stubborn pragmatic. She opened her mouth to launch into her first point when she caught the twitch of Sylvanas’ ear - the same sort of sideways flick that she noticed right before Vereesa launched into a terrible joke.

Jaina hustled a step ahead to round on Sylvanas and when she caught the smirk lingering on the banshee’s lips, she laughed even as she threw her hands up in frustration. “You are so _insufferable!”_

“His last good memory was flying and dive-bombing the moths. While he might not have been able to eat them, he liked playing with them.” Sylvanas answered, waiting for Jaina to fall back in step before moving on. “So, I was thinking Nightswoop or -”

“Moth.”

Sylvanas blinked, then nodded. “Yes, he liked the moths.”

“No. His name.” Jaina touched Sylvanas arm to slow her down then kneeled to get eye-level with the little bat. He was still fresh enough from the spell that it took him a moment to realize Jaina was looking at him, but when he did, he let out a tiny squeak.

“Moth?”

Jaina nodded, and straightened again. “Mmhmm.”

Sylvanas hummed softly, and the look she affixed Jaina forced the mage to duck her gaze away before the eye contact grew too intense. Sylvanas resumed their upward path, though she waited for Jaina again at the first landing. “Moth it is, then.”

A beat passed.

“I still think ‘Bat’ works just fine.”


End file.
